


Competition

by theladyseraphina



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:59:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyseraphina/pseuds/theladyseraphina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint gets placed in a competition. It was for good public relations....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Competition

“No.”  
“Agent Barton.”  
“No.”  
“Clint.”  
“No. My days of being a performing monkey are over.”  
“Clint, please?”  
“Phil. Really?”  
“We need the goodwill. The press has been on our backs lately.”  
“Can’t Tony just spend some more money?”  
“It’s not about that, Clint. It’s about making the Avengers more personable. Besides, you’ll enjoy it when you get there.”  
“I don’t want to compete, Phil. It’s not fair.”  
“Okay, fine. If we arrange it so you can participate without competing, will you do it?”  
“Ugh, fine, but just the finals. You’ll owe me, Phil, for this. Personally.”

 

Clint sighed. Wasn’t it enough, doing all the publicity that SHIELD had them performing? He got the job done and didn’t complain too much (except to Phil, and he didn’t count). Clint was aware he had responsibilities in regards to showing a good public face for the Avengers, but this was going a bit too damn far.  
The Line Marshal kept droning on about the rules. Clint listened with half an ear as the Marshal explained that they had three rounds of six arrows with only forty seconds per arrow, and that the targets were seventy meters away.  
Clint, as had been arranged earlier, was shooting in last place. He found the whole thing tedious, because the targets were stationary and the other archers were using the full forty seconds to take their shot.  
“I haven’t seen you around the competition circuit,” said one of the other archers. “Is this your first? What country are you representing?”  
“I don’t compete,” said Clint. “I just got dragged into this.”  
“Dragged in?” The man looked confused, but before he could continue, he was called up to take his shots.  
“Coulson, you there?” Clint said, activating his earpiece. “This is really boring, you know”  
“I know, but everyone’s happy to see you here.”  
“These guys aren’t even aware...”  
“Yes, it was planned that way so as not to make them nervous.”

 

“Great.”  
Clint continued chatting to Coulson as the shoot progressed. When he was called up, he wandered up to the line, glanced at the target and shot off his arrows in quick succession. Clint’s arrows made neat little groups in the centre of the targets every time.   
The other archers became more nervous as they passed through the rounds, with Clint paying hardly any attention to the shoot and obviously talking to someone on some sort of earpiece. None of them had ever seen anything like it before. This new man among them was not wearing any recognizable team uniform. Instead, he was in simple black cargo pants and a sleeveless shirt and seemed to resent being there. He didn’t pay much attention to the targets, but shot off arrows faster than anyone, and had incredible aim.  
After the last round was complete the officials came up to the group of archers. “Gentlemen, we now have to give you some information about today’s shoot. For the first time in history we have a person who was here to simply participate, not compete.”  
As Clint stepped forward, the official continued. “Today you have had the rare opportunity to shoot with the world’s greatest marksman. May I introduce you all to Clint Barton, known as Hawkeye of the Avengers.”  
“We have included him in the competition today, as we are aware that no one has had the opportunity to shoot with him in the past. I hope you have all enjoyed the shoot and forgive us our little deception. The medals will be presented shortly.”  
As the three competitors who shot the highest scores were called to the stands to receive their Olympic medals, Coulson turned to Clint. “So it wasn’t too bad after all?”   
“It was okay,” Clint replied. “But I’m still going to collect my favours from you.”  
“ I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
